Like the wind you are, and I am north -
Unchanged my airial conflicts.
For those weak of heart, those lacking roots;
Praised be the stones, their pillars of faith.
In them they find a stable stage, one with a roof to shield them.
Yet unshaken to the naked eye, false hope is within my sight.
No memories of empty ideals will pour itsself - without excuse - into my soul!
Surely, I will not - and could never - be a willing victim, floating underneath a roof of glass;
Like a window to the world inside - exposing the true meaning of life...
See, I may be tied neatly to our earth, but mistake not where my loyalties lie.
For it is not the soil's own element that has me bound.
No, my mind is a wider landscape than that - and therefore will never be caught or lead me to the eye of the storm
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
donderdag 22 november 2007
# 20 Love's Best
Serenely swept, secretly kept.
Inside my heart - where you live.
Honoured and primed,
Your love refined -
A fuel for thoughts of atonemential gift...
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Inside my heart - where you live.
Honoured and primed,
Your love refined -
A fuel for thoughts of atonemential gift...
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
# 19 Truth be told...
The voices inside my mind blind me...
Though one needs no eyes to measure our pain.
Well then, allow yourself to become emotion.
And let your inner eye look out to seek the world
and announce yourself!
For the world, in turn, is just as blind as us - crying tears of sorrow with eyes dried in shame...
Hungry for love with all the her heart, or all the pieces that remained...
So we should love; with truth, with passion; without doubt and without fear
For if we don't speak truth and simply cover our hearts with the veil of 'what may be'
We will have failed not just completely - but burden ourselves by knowing that, in fact, our souls were just an empty vessel...
>>>>>
Though one needs no eyes to measure our pain.
Well then, allow yourself to become emotion.
And let your inner eye look out to seek the world
and announce yourself!
For the world, in turn, is just as blind as us - crying tears of sorrow with eyes dried in shame...
Hungry for love with all the her heart, or all the pieces that remained...
So we should love; with truth, with passion; without doubt and without fear
For if we don't speak truth and simply cover our hearts with the veil of 'what may be'
We will have failed not just completely - but burden ourselves by knowing that, in fact, our souls were just an empty vessel...
>>>>>
# 18 Ode to Autumn
The autumn trees, I pity them.
Although their leaves are inflamed by a deep strawberry red - an olive green
or.. a sunset gold; cherished they are not!
But trampled underneath our clumsy feet..
For fools we are - who do not see true beauty.
Clinging to dull passion, we despise the wind that sweeps away the green.
Join me then, as a rebel of the early morning shade - where the whole world
will look the same...
And let it not be our time that's wasted! No, let it be them who squander their view
and misinterpret nature's intentions!
We will praise all the colours in the sky - why then won't we, just as eagerly,
embrace the dance of seasons?
Maybe this root of vanity is reason enough for calling upon self-reflection.
Because the leaves will fall - regardless of our affection
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Although their leaves are inflamed by a deep strawberry red - an olive green
or.. a sunset gold; cherished they are not!
But trampled underneath our clumsy feet..
For fools we are - who do not see true beauty.
Clinging to dull passion, we despise the wind that sweeps away the green.
Join me then, as a rebel of the early morning shade - where the whole world
will look the same...
And let it not be our time that's wasted! No, let it be them who squander their view
and misinterpret nature's intentions!
We will praise all the colours in the sky - why then won't we, just as eagerly,
embrace the dance of seasons?
Maybe this root of vanity is reason enough for calling upon self-reflection.
Because the leaves will fall - regardless of our affection
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
woensdag 14 november 2007
# 17 Vision of Love
Her hair was wet from rain
And tiny drops, like pearls, were gazing upon her skin
Her eyes were closed, then - dreaming, she looked down
Gentle hints of green and gold;
Like sunlight cast on shimmering waves
Came as a silent warning
Her eyes, truthfully, were as fierce as emeralds
Neatly yet passionately cut from the stone...
And her lips... were those of pleasant shade
That dare make many roses blush
Her face was framed by lush-like curls
That dangled in a subtle brown
But no newborn Goddess could compare
Because, most importantly,
It was her inner light that captured my heart
Because beside her elegance, she was wiser than she was fair...
© Kirstin Linnenkoper 13 november 2007
And tiny drops, like pearls, were gazing upon her skin
Her eyes were closed, then - dreaming, she looked down
Gentle hints of green and gold;
Like sunlight cast on shimmering waves
Came as a silent warning
Her eyes, truthfully, were as fierce as emeralds
Neatly yet passionately cut from the stone...
And her lips... were those of pleasant shade
That dare make many roses blush
Her face was framed by lush-like curls
That dangled in a subtle brown
But no newborn Goddess could compare
Because, most importantly,
It was her inner light that captured my heart
Because beside her elegance, she was wiser than she was fair...
© Kirstin Linnenkoper 13 november 2007
Abonneren op:
Posts (Atom)
